


Gold and Silver

by Khemi



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Begging, Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn with Feelings, Threesome - M/M/M, Trans Jake English
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-18 00:26:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7292215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khemi/pseuds/Khemi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ghost who haunted his waking moments was of a Dirk who had never existed, but he was no less vivid for the truth. If anything, he had <em>revelled</em> in Jake discovering the absolute disconnect between Dirk and the shadow of uninformed dreams. His voice had held in a smile in it Jake refused to look at when he cooed <em>look at that,</em> unseen arms draped over Jake’s shoulders. <em>What you see isn’t always what you get.</em></p>
<p>But Jake had <em>both,</em> and as one moaned beneath him and the other left an icy chill blooming over his neck like a bruise, he still couldn’t pretend that he disliked it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gold and Silver

**Author's Note:**

  * For [epochryphal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/epochryphal/gifts).



> As requested by my lovely prompter, this fic is a little less focused on genitalia and more focused on other sensations and thoughts. I hope you enjoy it and like the little flare I threw in for a twist! ;)

Jake had once learned to never judge a book by its cover, and he’d always thought he’d got the hang of taking his time and learning what was waiting on the pages beneath. Everyone got a full innings before he called the game, and that worked just fine for helping him pick out the duds from the diamonds without throwing away good gems just because they were a little scuffed up at first glance.

At least, he’d _thought_ he was good at it. He’d thought he had everyone down pat at this point, especially those he’d spent the most time with, and _extra_ -especially his best bro become boyfriend become _ex-_ boyfriend now come full circle back to bro bordering on a romantic sort of more once again. He’d spent so much time getting to know Dirk in so many different ways that filling in the rare gaps was hardly a conundrum! Extrapolating from such a vast well of information wasn’t all that tough, and it was _very_ different from assumptions based on first glances!

The problem arose when he finally got to put some of those assumptions into practise and found that he might’ve been a _tad_ off the mark. Usually, that was when people laughed it off, or sheepishly conceded to the truth. It was done, the error of judgement was corrected, and it needn’t linger as anything more than a fading memory of a silly mistake!

If only he was so lucky.

“You’re getting distracted, Jake.”

It was hard to describe the hand that ran lightly down his back, not for want of _trying._ After feeling the touch countless times and chasing the words to suit it, the best Jake could do was think of the time just after a storm had passed and the air was full of a welcome chill, a freshness that seemed to wind through everything and bring the world to life, taken and poured into silken gloves spun from morning dew. It was overly poetic, but it _fit;_ fit as best it could anyhow. The feeling was, in less pretty words, _indescribable_ , and yet indelibly _real_ as it left a lasting sensation down the curve of his spine, inescapably impossible but as tangible as the very skin it trailed its way across.

“ _Focus._ ”

The word was an order, short and firm, spoken close to his ear and snapping him from his wondering daze. He had been slipping from the world but at the command his mind sharpened suddenly into focus. Where there had been just his thoughts and a strange sort of solitude there was now _heat_ and _life_ and simpler hands that were burning bruises into his hips as Dirk’s nails cut crescents where they fell. There was sweat on Jake’s forehead, an unreal cool that ran down the dip of his nose as he trembled enough to urge the gathering droplet into motion, and he felt like the one point of cold was more real than anything else around him, unable to tear his awareness from it until it had fallen and met Dirk’s chest below him.

Dirk was molten gold that he felt might brand him eternally where they met, searing a flush over his body and sending heated shocks blossoming through his nerves each time they shifted and the divide between their forms once more slipped enough to be apparent; then they met again and the lines blurred to nothing, heartbeats and sensations just as tangled as their bodies. His legs held Dirk’s hips between them, though he hardly had to pin him to keep him there. Jake was raised proud above with more power than he had thought Dirk would give, an impassive distance between them that belied the heat in the instant, and will alone was enough to keep Dirk just where he was wanted, body responding to Jake’s smallest motions in only the ways he knew he was _allowed_.

Like the flow Jake now imagined him to be, Dirk was shapeless and fluid, endlessly shaping to suit the will of the Smith who grasped him. He ran easily into place and set into whatever was desired, pleading for a guidance he could not give himself and a way to satisfy a need that ran deeper than the flesh; the man who had always had everything planned and tight in his grip came apart when warm touches left his cold exterior tattered and broken. Jake had found that what waited beneath was pliant and pleasing, Dirk’s body trembling as though a whispered _you’re doing so well_ was a physical touch _,_ a chorus of shaky cries easy to coax from his lips with a firmer _good boy._

Dirk would thank him, then, always, hands clutching to him like Jake was the only anchor in a hurricane. Dirk’s eyes would mist with the same reverence dripping from his words as he murmured Jake’s name like a prayer.

This wasn’t what Jake had thought he’d be. Jake had seen the hammer instead of the metal to be struck, the hands that would shape the mold instead of the willing submission to fill it. He’d assumed Dirk would have the reins as he always did, pushing hard and expecting nothing less than perfection in every response; but he was wrong.

In another life, that would have been the end of it. In another mind, it would have been _simple._

He had been given neither allowance.

“You’re doing great, Jake.”

The words fell from his tongue in turn, the last warped into the other’s name. Dirk shuddered below him as Jake’s breathing stuttered with the pleased hand on his face, familiar but trailing silver where other fingers still left gold. He couldn’t look away from his lover down on the bed without showing too much, and that had always been a part of the game, ever since it started. _Don’t answer, don’t look. Tell me you’ll do anything but don’t let anyone else see._

He answered instead in the lean of his face, chasing those fingers and their promise. His shoulders dropped in a silent plea for what to do, and the ghost at his side laughed, pressing forward and running his lips up Jake’s face in kisses that melted like snowflakes against his heated cheeks.

“Think you’ve calmed down enough to try again? Maybe this time I’ll be kind.” Jake caught sight of the translucent arm that slipped between them, a perfect mirror of the one it slipped over but more certain in its path. His body reacted to the stroke when it grew too low, his lip splitting under the pressure it took to silence his moan and keep his voice at bay when he wanted to beg. He’d been so close, damn it all! He’d been _close_ and so ready to feel that release and then there was a hummed _stop_ in his ear and he’d obeyed before he could process the word, his mind catching up long after his thighs had tensed to halt Dirk below him and his hand had dropped away from the frantic circles he’d been following to completion. He‘d been close but like a well-trained dog he’d fallen into place the moment his master had uttered _heel,_ and he didn’t know if it was better or _worse_ that he had no one to blame for any of it but himself.

Dirk might not have been what Jake thought he was, but Jake hadn’t _known_ , not when he needed to. Not when the dream of what Dirk might’ve been had been given a spark that refused to die, a splinter of him reshaped by Jake’s mistakes into precisely as demanding a lover as Jake had imagined. Every sleepless night he’d fumbled through picturing Dirk’s voice telling him when to be patient and what to do, every time he’d thought of hands that would still him and guide him and break him apart without needing to touch him at all; all of those visions had flooded the spectre and followed him out of Jake’s mind. All of them were just as real as he’d believed, and oh, he’d believed so _strongly_ when it mattered the most.

The ghost who haunted his waking moments was of a Dirk who had never existed, but he was no less vivid for the truth. If anything, he had _revelled_ in Jake discovering the absolute disconnect between Dirk and the shadow of uninformed dreams. His voice had held a smile in it that Jake refused to look at when Dirk’s shadow cooed _look at that,_ unseen arms draped over Jake’s shoulders. _What you see isn’t always what you get._

But Jake had _both,_ and as one moaned beneath him and the other left an icy chill blooming over his neck like a bruise, he couldn’t pretend that he disliked it.

“Again,” the Ghost whispered, no less commanding for the quiet. “Good boys get to finish, but I’m not sure you’ve been good, Jake. You better make sure you hold yourself back until I make up my mind.”

Jake wanted to nod, to tell him he understood, he did, he’d be good[,] he’d been so _good-_ But all that he could manage was a shaky breath as he started moving, leaning one hand forward onto Dirk’s chest and letting his pent-up frustration out in the harsh demand, “you can’t come until I do, understand?”

“Oh- Oh _yeah,_ ” Dirk gasped, grip tightening back up around his hips but making no move to steer them. Dirk knew better than that, Jake wasn’t _his_ to order, though he likely didn’t know the irony in that statement. “I’ll be good.”

Jake couldn’t echo it, but he nodded heavily, desperate to show he meant the words as earnestly as they slipped from Dirk’s bruised lips.

_I’ll be good._

It wasn’t easy to keep himself moving steady and paced, but the friction winding his stomach into a tight coil wasn’t the worst of it. He didn’t need to use his hand to urge himself forward, not now- His focus was drawn entirely to the spectral touch that crept over his shoulders and tantalisingly lit down his arms, up to trace his jaw and the curve of his throat. It was teasingly soft, purposefully maddening. His heart pounded as the Ghost’s palms spread over his chest, softly cupping the weight there while an unreal body slipped up against his back and fit close to the shape of it. Jake leaned into the face that nuzzled into his hair, and regretted it the moment his legs shifted to accommodate the change and a stronger lance of pleasure stole his breath and left a tremble in his stuttering hips. _Too close._ He forced himself to halt, nails curling over Dirk’s chest and leaving angry red lines behind them.

“Did I say you could stop?”

“No-” It slipped out before he could swallow it, and for a moment Jake panicked- before Dirk shuddered and whimpered out a desperate apology.

“I’m sorry, fuck, it’s so hard to-” Dirk gasped as Jake sunk down firmly, fingers twitching tight. “I can wait, I can hold it, please!”

Jake managed to return to the pace he’d held before, leaning forward in an attempt to escape the temptation at his ear and only succeeding in earning chill kisses over his burning shoulderblades that did nothing to quench the heat twisting in his gut. Every motion was shakier, every attempt to breathe naturally felt more like drowning, but he couldn’t stop. He hadn’t been allowed to stop, not yet, and he had to prove he was deserving of the Ghost’s kindness, that he was deserving of being allowed to finish, and it was so hard to focus but he had to keep going and he had to try to hold himself together just a little longer-

He could feel Dirk falling to pieces and he knew he was hardly doing any better himself, but the control that had been trained into him was too strong to let him slip entirely. Nights spent with the objects that he was commanded to collect, conditioning himself to the tune of a sultry whisper or learning to leap at the demanding tones of a louder snap, had left him with an understanding of his purpose that ran deeper than simple conscious thought. It was no different in the day, mostly, beyond the moments he found himself gathered with his friends only for a cool hand to slip up his side or down his front while the spectre of his own desires softly told him to make sure no one noticed; but at night he _belonged_ to those hands and those words, and it would be a lie to say he hadn’t begun to crave it, the hours after sunset where he didn’t have to be anything but willing and cared for as he fulfilled every need that was a borrowed echo of his own.

It was those hours that had led him back here, and further than he’d ever been before. For a while he’d been certain the canyon that had cracked between him and Dirk was barely passable, that even after all the healing they’d done a space had to remain for the sake of his sanity; but the whispers he dressed in Dirk’s face and Dirk’s voice were a Siren’s song towards the edge. He’d lost himself in them until the day a breathless _you know he’d say yes_ frosted over the last of his resolve and left him murmuring things to Dirk- filthy repetitions he’d thought himself incapable of speaking aloud until they left him, each of which Dirk lapped up with a willingness that surpassed what Jake had expected.

That had been the first assumption to come apart. Endless others followed in the heated nights Jake no longer spent alone with his demons.

The Ghost at his back caressed his sides and drew him back to the present, a shiver shooting down his spine at the feeling of the fire and ice meeting over his hips and lacing together into one warring point of endless sensation. Not for the first time, Jake wondered what Dirk would think if he could see and hear and _feel_ the image of him Jake kept constantly close; what would he make of those hands that held possessively over his own, of the voice that had Jake echo commands for them both to follow? What would he think if he saw Jake’s desires wore his face, even through all the times Jake had insisted he wanted anything else?

“He’d think of you just like you deserve to be thought of,” that same face murmured, lips so close he could feel the shape of the words against the shell of his ear. “Desperate, _needy_.” Chilled fingers slipped over Jake’s lips and spread his mouth open so he couldn’t hide the moan the words had shaken out of his chest. The tip of his tongue curled up into the touch, and he didn’t think of how it must look to Dirk, didn’t _care_ in that instant; he’d do _anything_ , even if others would judge him for it, too far into the need to _please_ to really resist any push he was given. “Go on, Jake. You want to come, right? Tell me how much. I think it’s finally time someone else gets to hear you beg.”

“Puh-” Jake slurred between his fingers, and then they slipped out and he choked out a pleasured cry, his shoulders shaking. “ _Please,_ oh God, please, I’ve been so good I’ve waited so long, _please_ Dirk, _I can’t take this,_ I can’t, I’ll do anything- just let me come, just once, _please!”_

The molten grip on his hips tightened, sharply, and Jake slumped forwards, gaze snapping back to the real Dirk’s face. Dirk’s eyes were wide, glassy with pleasure, his lips parted and every small motion of their bodies making him shake. He mouthed Jake’s name and Jake couldn’t tell if it was a question or an echoed plea, their gazes locked as the Ghost ran his cold fingers over Dirk’s hands and then up to grasp Jake’s throat and tilt his head back, kissing softly against the point of Jake’s pulse.

“Good boys,” he cooed. “Come for me.”

It barely took the feel of storm-fresh teeth breaking his skin for Jake to fall, finally releasing the pressure he’d been holding back and feeling everything tighten at once into a trembling wave of ecstasy that swept up him and left his voice stuttering through a high curse. His eyes rolled, lids fluttering over them as his mind raced with everything, every word that had been spoken and every move their bodies had made; every time he’d held back and the two sets of hands that still held fast to him as one Dirk shuddered and spilled into his warmth and the other whispered praise against his cheek.

Jake let the aftershocks shiver through him as his voice died to panted gasps and then silence, the hand across his neck dropping slowly down his front to press gently across his stomach. Dirk’s thighs tensed below him before finally stilling, and for a beat all was quiet and sweet warmth, the sun burning before him and a cool breeze washing over his back.

The Ghost turned his head, gently, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Jake didn’t think before following it, and it was only after their lips had come apart again that he blinked dazedly and remembered, looking down to Dirk and figuring out what to say, words tangled up in the fog his climax had left behind. There wasn’t an easy way to explain, if Dirk even believed what he had to say-

Dirk pushed himself up slowly, arm shaking, sweeping his hair back from his damp forehead as his gaze flitted awkwardly away from Jake’s face. As Jake felt another tremor and swallowed the soft gasp away, Dirk’s mirror image stood, running translucent fingers through Jake’s thick hair before stepping forward, flashing Jake a broad, lazy smile.

Then he reached out and touched Dirk’s cheek, and Jake’s thoughts derailed as Dirk turned into it, lifting his chin as ghostly fingers curled beneath it and fixing his gaze on something he shouldn’t see- _couldn’t_ see-

But he’d always been aware of his splinters, hadn’t he?

More aware than Jake had thought- another mistake. Another correction. Another realisation that left his eyes wide as Dirk’s cheeks darkened again and the splinter of him that had been buried in Jake whistled, low and amused.

“This is going to be _fun,_ ” the spectre purred, and Jake couldn’t stop the pleasant frisson that chased the words down his spine.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for giving me the chance to write this. It's a ship I've always watched from the bushes, but gosh it was fun to dive right in and find out how fun it can be.


End file.
